


Present

by Zuri_of_Vesuvia



Series: Asra Has A Book Of Sex Magic [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: (literally), Bubble Bath, Come Eating, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Magic, Magical Strap-On, Multi, Naked Cuddling, Nonbinary Character, POV First Person, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sex Magic, Sex Toys, Strap-Ons, nonbinary apprentice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 14:52:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19359229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zuri_of_Vesuvia/pseuds/Zuri_of_Vesuvia
Summary: I sit back enough to meet Asra's eyes - and see the smug adoration in them. Only he could have an expression like that and still make it endearing. It's not just in his eyes, either; the corners of his lips are curled upwards, but they part in the middle, too kiss flushed and slack for a proper smirk. I adore him like this - confident and full of lust. He's proud of himself and he damn well should be.Asra gives MC a gift they'll never forget.





	Present

**Author's Note:**

> For those interested, my apprentice is named Zuri - although you could probably guess that by my username. I decided not to mention this, though, as I want people to be able to imagine their own apprentice as much as possible considering the details I've given about their anatomy. They are AFAB Nonbinary and try to have as androgynous of an appearance as possible, but aren't too hung up on it where friends (and lovers) are concerned.
> 
> I am by no means new to AO3, but this is my first contribution to the fandom (of many, I hope). Please enjoy and leave comments and/or kudos if you are able!
> 
> (Also, I have not done paragraphing in a rather long time, so I apologise if the places I have put brakes feel awkward! Mostly un-beta'd we die like men)

“Close your eyes.”

I do as Asra tells me without hesitation. If it was anyone else - with the exception of Julian, but he rarely _gives_ orders - doubt would have been trying to force my eyes open. After all, how much trust can you really feel when you’re kneeling on a bed, naked from the waist down and being told to surrender one of your senses? A lot, apparently, because all I feel is excitement, anticipation, Asra’s calm and powerful aura meeting with mine as I give in, completely trusting him.

Asra’s bare footsteps are soft pats as he steps off the rug at the foot of the bed, making his way across the wooden floor to the other side of the room. I feel as if I can still see him behind me, the mischievous flicker in his aura as he pulls a box from the top of the wardrobe, the light scraping of wood on wood. He hides things up there because he knows I’m not tall enough to reach. Julian is, though - he towers over both of us - and I could always use magic, but neither of us really want to break that particular rule and take a peek without permission. The potential surprise is far too alluring.

It’s no shock when the warmth of Asra’s hands slides across my shoulders; I can feel his presence long before our bodies touch. He hums as his fingers trail down my arms, stopping at my elbows as his chest presses against my back. Whenever we’re intimate like this, he’s always so reverent about it. Each move is deliberate - slow and gentle unless I tell him otherwise. He does have his moments, though; when he holds me as if someone is going to try and tear me away at any minute, when his words become just a babble of sounds and my name, or Julian’s.

“I’ve been working on this for a while,” he murmurs, breath warm against my ear. It makes me shiver in his embrace. “I wanted to make sure it was _perfect_ , just like you.”

All I can do is scoff as my face burns hot. I’ve given up trying to talk back when he compliments me like that; all it does it make him try harder. Asra chuckles, lips forming a smile as they trail kisses across the back of my neck. He bites at the collar of my shirt, tugging it that last inch to fall from my shoulder and expose more skin for him to lavish with his mouth. I lean back against him, tipping my head to encourage him as a soft moan bubbles in my chest. Asra never explicitly tells me to make noise, but I can tell that he enjoys it when I do. He answers with a muffled sound of his own, a rough sigh that I feel against my back more than actually hear. It makes me notice his heart racing, beating against his chest whilst my own pounds like it’s trying to get to his.

Our pulses quicken when his hands drift to my waist, fingers dancing around the hem of my shirt until they slide up underneath. Only the last few buttons are keeping it from being completely open, the others long undone when Asra helped me undress, ready for my “surprise”. My skin prickles warmly in the wake of his hands and for a moment, I forget we even had an intention other than just existing together; Asra mapping my body with languid touches, as if telling himself that I’m really here. When I do remember, I don’t say anything to him, but I feel his lips leave my skin all the same as he pulls back with a sigh.

“I’m being selfish, denying you your gift like this.”

I turn my head cautiously, hopeful that it’s at least in the direction of his face, showing him that I haven’t even thought about opening my eyes. His forehead presses gently to mine and I smile.

“It’s not selfish if I enjoy it, too,” I whisper, feeling our breaths meet between us.

Asra laughs softly through his nose and captures my lips in one of his gentle, longing kisses that I’ve come to crave.

“It is if there’s something better on the horizon,” he says when we reluctantly part. Then he clears his throat and even without my sight, I can imagine his flustered expression as he puts more distance between our faces. “At least, I hope it’s better. If you don’t like it, please tell me.”

“I will,” I promise. I would never lie to him. I don’t think I even _could_.

A moment of silence, but it's not hesitation. I can feel Asra looking at me, searching my face, so I look blindly back at him, his beautiful, intense aura making a picture of him in my mind. I can _feel_ his adoration, his love blanketing me. It would be suffocating, if I didn't find myself needing it more every day, if I didn't feel the same way whenever I look at him or even just think of him. In fact, it's not suffocating at all - it's a comfort I don't think either of us could do without.

 

Then the feeling changes and Asra is aglow with excitement once more. He moves to sit in front of me, one hand keeping skin contact with me the entire time until it's resting upon my knee. His palm applies the gentlest pressure and I sit back on my heels expectantly.

“Alright,” he says, as I feel a box pushed into my hands. “Open your eyes.”

When I do, the box is rather more plain than I expected. Something is clearly inside, shifting when I tilt the box this way and that; quiet thuds and the subtle rattle of chains. Interesting. I give Asra a sly, teasing smile. “A grey box. Just what I've always wanted.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Open it. Please.”

He's too fun to mess with. I lean forwards and peck a kiss to his cheek, his skin prickling with heat under my lips. Seeing him flustered is just as entertaining as feeling it in the flutter of his aura. I could keep it up all day, but my own curiosity gets the better of me and I turn my attention back to my present, lifting the lid slowly-

My eyebrows shoot up. Within the seemingly innocent box, amongst a nest of silk and sheer fabric, lays what I can only describe as, well, a dick. Not a real one, obviously, but you’d be forgiven for thinking so with a quick glance - and if the base were actually attached to a person. Speaking of; that _can’t_ be what those impossibly small chains are for, there’s no way they’d stand up to actual use. Must be for decoration.  Even as I flush from the chest up, I can’t help being intrigued as to why Asra would buy something like this.

“I thought Julian was the only one who bought toys?” The words are out of my mouth before I register the faint magical aura that I hadn’t been able to feel through the packaging.

The penny drops not a moment later; Asra’s well-kept secret, his book of _Spells for Pleasure (and Pain)_. We’ve used it a few times - to spice things up or make things a little easier if we don’t have the patience to prepare each other the old fashioned way - but until now, it’s only been spells with a limited and temporary effect, never actual enchanted objects…

My eyes narrow, their questioning gaze met by one of Asra’s cheeky smirks. His eyes dart to my present, then back up to my face. There’s a barely-there hint of concern, worry that he’s made me upset or that I don’t approve. I decide not to tease him this time, tilting the box to examine its contents further.

“Been experimenting?” I ask him, glad I kept my question short when I notice that this masterfully crafted cock comes complete with a set of balls. It could be called a sculpture, if anyone would ever want to display something like this in their home. Now I have even _more_ questions.

Asra’s reply is a playful hum in the affirmative as he squeezes my knee. Yet when our eyes meet again, he looks flustered and innocent behind the flirtatious smile; all pink in the face and his gaze hiding under those beautiful lashes. “I know you say you enjoy using an extension with Ilya and I, but is it _really_ an extension if you can't feel it?"

He's right, I _do_ enjoy it; I enjoy giving them what my fingers can't, giving them more, seeing them fall apart beneath me… The idea of being able to _feel_ it? Feel _them_? I shiver, renewed heat rushing to my cheeks. I can’t help squirming, abruptly remembering that i'm all-but-naked when I feel the slickness between my thighs. A smile tugs at my mouth as I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, imagination already running wild. I can’t wait any longer. 

“Show me.” Oh, wow, I didn’t realise that my voice would be this ragged already, Asra’s barely touched me. Not that he seems to mind - if anything it only makes him light up with anticipation. He truly does get a thrill out of making others lose their inhibitions.

Evident with said thrill, Asra grins and surges forwards to kiss me, relieved and hungry in equal measure. He cups my face with one hand, the other relieving me of the box. With my hands free, I immediately lace one into his hair and slip the other inside his shirt. His skin is like silk, impossibly soft even when the muscles of a traveler flex underneath. I’ll never get enough of touching him, running my hands over every inch of his body. Even as I twist his beautiful silver curls, his hair never tangles, sliding through my fingers like water with each rough, uncoordinated stroke. A breathy little noise vibrates against my lips when I scratch lightly over his scalp, then another, louder, on the second pass of my nails. Julian isn't the only one who likes it a little rough.

Asra's hands mirror their earlier path down my sides, sliding across my hips, around to the small of my back, but stopping just before they dip any lower, gliding away to rest on my thighs. I whine into his mouth, but all it does is make him chuckle, sucking hard on my tongue as he pushes my knees apart with ease.

"Stay like this." He barely leaves my lips to talk - in fact he might have not spoken at all, just willed me to stay, told me through my own thoughts.

I'm glad I don't have to kneel anymore; my legs are trembling with the effort of keeping still. Asra's hands venture lower, tracing the shape of where each leg meets my body. I'm short of begging him to do _anything_ else, instead of dancing his fingers around so infuriatingly, when something tingling with magic presses against my clit and the folds around it. It's not quite warm or human, but it's enough to make me whimper all the same, more desperate than I remember being for a long while.

"Soon," he mutters, wet kisses making their way down my throat. "Just a second."

It feels as if he's trying to look over my shoulder, fiddling with something that's feather-light on my skin. Is he _really_ bothering to fasten those tiny chains? They can't be that important-

 

Or perhaps they are, because at the tiniest _click_ , the warmth that had been pooling in my groin floods into a pace I've never felt before, throbbing with want. I melt into Asra's arms with a groan, caught off guard by wave of dizzy arousal.

"Good?" He asks, chest rumbling under my ear. I can't see his face but I know precisely what expression he's making - very much the cat who got the cream.

My gaze drifts downwards instead and I abruptly realise that what I'm feeling is Asra's hand, wrapped around a cock that very much looks like it could be entirely mine, glowing softly with the lilac spirals that mark Asra's magic. I watch lazily, encouraging his strokes with soft moans as my eyes roam my new apparatus. So the chains are for activating the magic, only when connected, and it's what makes the entire thing work. Fascinating. I'll have to ask him about it when I can think clearly.

As for now, I sit back enough to meet Asra's eyes - and see the smug adoration in them. Only _he_ could have an expression like that and still make it endearing. It's not just in his eyes, either; the corners of his lips are curled upwards, but they part in the middle, too kiss flushed and slack for a proper smirk. I adore him like this - confident and full of lust. He's proud of himself and he damn well should be.

"More," I mumble, hiding my face in the crook of his neck when he begins to slow his hand. "Please, Asra. Don't tease me."

He knows I only ask for that when I'm serious. His apology is a kiss to my forehead, then a hand on my back to urge me closer - practically into his lap, straddling his leg - as he picks up the pace. His hand is somehow slick without the aid of more magic than we're already using, but curiosity is outweighed by desire and my eyes flutter closed. I stop trying to reason or control myself, letting my hips find a stuttering rhythm of rocking into Asra’s hand. He lets me, for a while, then his grip becomes more controlling, all four fingers pressing my cock against his palm. His thumb rubs over the head and gathers more warm lubricant, ruining my best efforts to stifle a loud moan in his shoulder.

Asra smiles against my temple. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

I reply with a shiver and a few vigorous nods. I want to repay the favour, but I don't trust myself to be in control of my hands with so many new sensations. They shake as I paw at Asra’s clothes and I let out a small whine in the back of my throat. I always feel so depraved when I give in to my urges like this, but Asra never makes me - never _lets_ me - feel embarrassed about wanting things - especially when what I want is him. I pull at his shirt again, trying to convey that I want it off him, _now_.

He gets the message loud and clear and finally decides to act on it, pushing his shirt over his shoulders and placating me with kisses when he has to stop touching me. He eventually wiggles the clothing down to hang around his waist and I grip his bare arms to steady myself as he pulls me into his lap properly. My knees settle each side of his hips, our bodies fitting together like jigsaw pieces. It makes me hum with pleasure, happiness, though Asra’s answering noise is a little more strained. I hadn’t noticed quite how much he was enjoying this until I feel a distinctive shape through his trousers; hard and warm.

His hand slides between us again, eager to continue, and my hips buck into his touch, both of us groaning at the friction of our bodies moving against each other. I can tell I’m making a mess, both of us are, but it just feels so good. Heat coils inside me, my thighs tensing and squeezing Asra’s hips between them as I get closer.

"A-ah, As-" I gasp when Asra twists his hand. " _Please_ , Asra-"

"It's okay- mmh, let go." It's not an order - his voice too unsteady, breathing too much of a pant - but I want so desperately to obey. I can feel him watching me, his eyes so intent as he focuses his all on giving me pleasure.

I turn my face to kiss him, feel him murmur my name, and that tips me over the edge. I come hard, a full-body shudder forcing out one last moan of relief against Asra's lips.

 

Rain patters softly on the windows, but I can barely hear it over my own pulse beating fast and loud in my ears. I can feel Asra’s doing the same, his panted breaths warm in my hair as my own meet with the sweat-slick skin of his chest. He puts a hand behind himself, shakily lowering his body back onto the bed and taking me with him. Not that I have a choice - I can barely even think about moving. I’m not even certain I can feel my legs. Then again, it’s not like I’d want to move. His chest rises and falls under me like the ebb and flow of waves, finding their rhythm after a storm. I could be with him like this forever.

A few moments of laying in near-silence, breathing each other in, then Asra manages a breathless chuckle. I look up, bleary eyed, as he brings the hand that was caught between us up to his face. His fingers glisten, sticky strands between them as he touches the pads together and then wiggles them apart. A renewed blush creeps into my cheeks. I can’t sense any magic from his hand, at least not the kind we use for lubrication. He smiles at me, equally drowsy, then sticks two fingers into his mouth and sucks, humming around them as if they’re a tasty treat. It feels like I’m going to catch on fire. I want to hide my face, but I can’t stop watching him.

He pulls his fingers out from between his lips with an obscene, wet slurp. “Still the sweetest.”

My gaze flicks to his hand before it’s drawn back to his eyes. “Me?” Is the only part of my actual question I can manage when he’s looking at me like this.

Asra nods and leans in to kiss me, letting me taste myself on his tongue. “I wanted this to be as real for you as possible,” he murmurs between more kisses. “But I can change it, if you like.” His teeth graze my lip in the barest hint of a bite. “I can change anything for you, just say the word.”

I know by his tone that he’s not just referring to my new toy, but now isn’t the time to argue over the fact that he’s stunningly perfect - flaws and all - and he just can’t see it. Not when he’s mouthing at my neck and my head is full of what more we can do with this, what _I_ can do, what I can make him and Julian feel. The very idea of coming inside them is almost enough to make me ready to try it right now, but an experimental slide against Asra’s leg tells me I’m still too sensitive. I can’t help an annoyed little grumble in the back of my throat.

Asra chuckles softly against my collarbone. "We'll have plenty of time later, don't worry." His mouth finds mine again, but the kiss is slower this time, softer; a silent promise that we _will_ have a later, that he's not going to leave me behind anymore.

I lay a hand on his chest, thumb rubbing over his heartbeat. It's still thumping, just like mine is, but they're slowing as we come down from our high. Or, well, my high, I guess. Not wanting to leave Asra unsatisfied, I trail my fingers down his torso, smiling when he shudders at my touch on his stomach. I draw swirls in the cooling slick and sweat, gradually working my way lower, moving fabric where I need to until-

A sharp gasp against my lips is only half the reason I still my hand and sit back. I raise an eyebrow, watching Asra blush darker than I thought possible.

"I appreciate the thought," he says quietly, clearing his throat before he can meet my eyes and continue. "But there's no need."

“You enjoyed it that much?” I ask, sliding my hand up to his hip and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

He swallows thickly, throat bobbing, and nods. “Are you really so surprised?”

I think for a moment, then shake my head. This isn’t exactly the first time he’s come with barely any effort on my part, but it’s still hard to believe I can make him feel this way, that just me experiencing something is enough to make him feel it too. It’s like when we share our magic, or our thoughts, or our heartbeat. We share almost everything and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Are you disappointed?" Asra's tone carries genuine concern, the drop in his expression showing the same.

I put my (clean) hand on his cheek. "No, no of course not - how could I be?"

It takes a moment - a moment where I realise how fragile Asra still is when it's just the two of us - but he's soon back to giving me a content, lovesick gaze as if the doubts were never even there. When he's looking at me like this, his eyes like the shifting, violet pools of his magical gateway, it's as if we're the only people in the world. Unless Jules is there, of course - we could never ignore our favourite doctor.

Asra opens his mouth, so I blurt out, "I love you," before he can get there first. I don't want him to think I'm always agreeing, always just saying ' _you too_ ' - even if my words aren’t quite as eloquent as his when I go first.

It's worth it for the bashful glance away before he practically beams at me. "I love you, too.”

We meet for a kiss with no hesitation, like a shared notion or an instinct, our mouths molding perfectly to the shape of each other. Asra pulls me into his lap and I bury a hand in his hair, neither of us caring which parts of our bodies are sticky or damp. When he kisses me like this, holds me like this, I can still feel that hint of desperation he had when I entered his gateway, the first memory I have of tasting his lips against mine. He still thinks this can’t last. Julian does, too. They’re both absolutely hopeless.

“Sometimes, I still can’t believe I get to say that.” Asra murmurs the words against the corner of my mouth as if he read my mind. Or maybe I read his.

I give him another quick peck as I push him gently down into the pillows. “Well, you do, so believe it.” I give him a taste of his own devious smirk. “And if you don’t, I’ll have to show you.”

He feigns shock, but he can’t keep the smile off his face. “My, my, what a great hardship that would be.”

His lips make that little pout where he’s trying not to laugh, emphasised by a kiss-reddened flush that makes them so irresistible. He’s practically glowing with love, with happiness. I’d make sure he felt like this all day, if I could. We’re both giggling when I lean down to capture those beautiful, plump lips; soft, muffled huffs through our noses that spread the light in our chests, auras mingling freely until they’re indistinguishable from one another. That feeling, the touch of his magic like a cool breeze in summer and my own reaching out in return, it’s more than words could ever say.

There’s a short spark, a snap behind my ear as I notice one of Asra’s hands has left my body, then the sound of running water in the room nextdoor. I retreat enough to show that my interest is piqued, but still feel the warmth of his breath when he talks.

“I thought you might appreciate a bath,” he says, running a hand slowly up and down my side, almost a massage but not quite. “Nadi gave me a new soap we can try.”

On the second pass, his hand dips lower, past the small of my back to undo the tiny clasp nestled there. As soon as it releases, my limbs turn to jelly, a fizzy numbness flooding my head. Asra catches me when I flop against his chest, both arms circling my shoulders as he nuzzles and kisses my hair.

“I’m fine,” I manage, patting his chest, but he’s still aflutter with concern.

“Sorry, I should have realised how taxing magic like that would be for-” I silence him with a hand over his mouth.

I wriggle in his arms until I can sit up, the dizziness fading as quickly as it came. “Bath first, sex magic discussion later.”

He stares, then sighs, then nods and smiles and insists on carrying me to the bathroom. I let him, with feigned reluctance to hide the fact that I’m still fairly wobbly for various reasons, but I also rather enjoy being carried in his arms like royalty.

 

In one swift movement, he slides my shirt the rest of the way off as he places me in the bath. The water is just the right temperature - as always - and I sigh out a deep groan as my body sinks into it's hot embrace. I watch Asra finish stripping over the rim of the tub, smirking at the way his face screws up when he has to peel his trousers away from his crotch. That's what he gets for not wearing underpants.

The water laps at my chest when he slides in behind me. The bath is big enough for him to sit next to me - big enough for three, as we had specified when we finally got around to fixing up the shop's washroom - but we usually end up in each others laps when we share it like this. His chest makes for the perfect pillow when I lean back, his arms circling around me to cross lightly over my middle. I'm so comfortable that I almost don't want to remind him about the soap, but now that I'm not distracted, my natural curiosity is whirring back to life.

"So," I murmur, pausing to yawn - and feeling Asra chuckle softly, warmly, into my hair as I do. "What's this special soap all about, hm?"

Asra hums as he reaches for the table behind us, returning with a small pouch. He lifts his arms to hold it in front of me, resting his head on my shoulder. His hair tickles my ear and I turn to kiss his temple before I look at the pouch. It's a gorgeous, deep blue with an ornate pattern in golden thread and a matching ribbon for the drawstring; there’s no way it could be from anyone other than Nadia.

I watch Asra pour a few crystals into his palm, each seeming to contain a tiny, pastel rainbow that shifts in the light. There’s magic in them, quivering with their proximity to the warm water around us. I never thought I would be so intrigued about soap, but after the incense that Nadia let us use at the Masquerade, I've learned that whatever she gives to us is often very worthy of a Magician's intrigue.

Asra's lips graze my cheek, but before I can look away he says, "Watch carefully."

He moves his open hand closer to the water, slowly submerging the crystals. For a moment, they do nothing but sway a little with the movement of the water around them. Then the colours flow out of them, spreading through the bathwater until it's surface shimmers with every colour of the rainbow. With it, comes the scent of flowers, each sniff carrying a different one but not overpowering, spice and herbs mingling as an undertone. Just as I think the trick is complete, bubbles begin to form from the remaining crystals in Asra's palm, starting as a small fizz and reaching the size of a dumpling by the time they break the surface. Some float up to the ceiling, whereas others remain around us in a way that's strangely comforting.

"It reminds me of your magic," Asra murmurs, smiling against my neck. "And our time at the masquerade."

I can't help but agree. The bubbles, the colours, the beautiful scent; it takes me back to that evening, back to how we were able to be so carefree even with Lucio and the Devil looming over us. My chest feels light as I watch the bubbles, each finding its own place in the air to settle.

The crystals eventually dissolve and Asra returns to holding me. It's almost perfect, but there's a space that needs filling opposite us, space for a gangly doctor who absolutely needs to relax-

The door creaks open, as if on cue, and a few moments later Faust appears on the table. _‘Slippery boy!’_ She flicks out her tounge, a mischievous but fond glint in her eyes. I can't help snorting out a laugh.

"Ah, I wondered when Ilya would be home." There was a time when neither of us thought we would ever hear Asra say that - or with such fondness. "Tell him to come straight up."

Faust disappears just as we hear the shop door open and the unmistakable click-step of Julian's boots on the wood floor. He talks to Faust as he removes his coat and shoes - even though he can't hear her talk back. I love that he treats her as more than just a snake, especially considering how much she teases him about the whole squeezing business.

“After you, my dear Lady Faust.” I can imagine him giving her some sweeping gesture as his voice drifts up the stairs and it brings a grin to my face.

Asra and I settle into the most alluringly adorable pose we can; glancing back at the doorway amidst a sea of magical bubbles with warm, relaxed smiles. A gentle dusting of pink colours both of our faces, our hair mostly dry but beginning to curl and dampen with the steam of the bath. Not to mention that we’re both obviously naked and very much in the mood to cuddle. How could Julian even _think_ to resist joining us?

Judging by the way he freezes like a hare seeing a fox when he walks in, he apparently can think about resisting - because he’s Julian, Ilya, Ilyushka Devorak; a sook of a doctor who can’t believe he’s truly loved and wanted no matter what name you use, even when there’s more than one person telling him so. He still feels like he’s interrupting when he walks in on us; whether we’re cuddling, sleeping, bathing, in the throes of passion or simply eating breakfast. If only he would come live here at the shop...

“Don’t,” Asra says when one of Julian’s feet begins a tentative backstep. There’s none of the usual command, none of the dominance that Julian craves, but something about the gentle, almost pleading tone makes him freeze anyway.

“You look tired,” I say, holding out a hand in invitation. “Join us?”

“Please?” Asra adds, giving Julian the puppy-dog eyes that I know neither he nor I can resist.

Julian clears his throat, straightening up before putting on his usual cocky smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He takes a step into the room, then stops when he finally seems to notice the bubbles. “Playing with hocus pocus?”

Asra chuckles. “A present from Nadia - for all of us.”

The last part makes Julian relax and take a few more steps. “Certainly has the same aroma as the palace,” he remarks, taking a deliberate sniff of the air before pulling off his shirt. “Or the Masquerade, more specifically.”

I share a knowing smile with Asra. “That’s what we thought.”

Julian smiles back at us and continues undressing, his eyepatch the last thing to go before he steps into the bath - with a little hesitation and dithering on exactly _how_ to step in, as always. You’d think by now he would know what to do with those long legs of his. Asra takes pity on him, sliding past me with a chuckle.

“Relax, Ilya,” he murmurs, gently pushing on Julian’s chest until he's reclining against the rim of the bath.

The tub is a bit of an odd shape - Julian once likened it to a "robust and possibly diseased kidney" - but it works well enough for us. Especially since, with a little encouragement, Jules can stretch his legs out fully whilst submerged up to his armpits.

"There, better?" Asra tilts his head as he waits for an answer and I can practically see Julian melting under his gaze.

The doctor clears his throat, then nods. "Yes. Quite. I've been on my feet all day; one of those disobedient hounds stole a piece of my equipment and hid it in the maze." He frowns, but I can tell it's more for show than any actual resentment. Julian is a softie for animals at heart - even Mercedes and Melichor.

I try to make an 'aww' of pity, but I can't stop a few chuckles slipping out along with it. "Oh, you poor thing." Asra swaps places with me as I lean forwards, placing a hand either side of Julian's face. "I think you deserve a little pampering, hm?"

He blushes furiously, avoiding my eyes for a solid half a minute or so. "If that's what you want.."

"It is," I tell him, leaving no room for uncertainty and kissing him before he can argue.

He gradually relaxes under my lips and hands, returning my kisses eagerly but not touching me until Asra urges him to do so, guiding his hands to rest on my back. I sigh and lower myself to lay against Julian's body, parting from his mouth with reluctance.

"Let us take care of you," I whisper, splaying my hand over his chest and enjoying the feeling of the soft, fine hairs that grow there.

His skin is turning so pink under them that it almost matches, the colour only growing more vivid when Asra joins me on his other side, linking our fingers over Julian's heart. He kisses Julian's shoulder, nipping at the same spot before kissing it again and then resting his cheek there.

Evidently bewildered as to why we're so affectionate, Julian simply looks between us, his cheeks turning dark red from the heat of the bath and both of us pressed so close to him. He makes a little noise at the feeling of Asra's teeth, but at least it has him finally stretching out and losing the last of the tension in his body.

"Thank you," he mutters into my hair.

I open my mouth to say there's no need, but then I catch Asra's mischievous smile. I grin back and pat Julian's chest. "Don't thank us yet.”

“We’re not quite done with you.” Asra finishes, hooking his leg through mine across Julian’s lap. He winks at me when Julian splutters out a few beginnings of words before giving up entirely, but doesn’t elaborate, leaving the decision of exactly how not done we are with him up to me.

 

Well, one thing is for certain; none of us are going anywhere tonight except this bath, the bed, and maybe the kitchen.


End file.
